Tales of the Djinn: The Double (40 page)

Her cheeks were wet. Cade dried one at nearly the same time that Arcadius brushed the other. She really was a mess if they both had to coddle her.

“I didn’t mean to be such a baby,” she apologized.

“We’ll make it work.” Arcadius’s voice was sterner than Cade’s had been, his manner determined.

“Good.” She finished wiping her face herself. “Can we go back to the brownstone now? I don’t want to stay in this place.”

~

Arcadius walked to Elyse’s home in an unprecedented daze. An army of ifrits could have lurked on the roofs, and he wouldn’t have noticed.

Cade was obliged to explain to Leo why they weren’t doing the spell. Elyse was too shaken up.

Elyse loved Arcadius.

Not just a little, apparently. She loved him enough to have sobbed like her world was ending, enough—in truth—to look as if she were having a teensy fit. She loved him exactly the way he was; loved him as much as she loved his double . . . so far as he could tell.

That was an extraordinary development.

In all his life, Arcadius had never been that important to someone’s happiness. He’d had friends and people who counted on him, but nothing as deep as this. The realization made him giddy. He wanted to slay a dragon, or maybe hug everyone he met. Well, perhaps that went a bit too far. He could have hugged Cade, though, and Leo too. Had he known he had this much affection inside of him? The sense that he and Cade were rivals had blown away.

They were meant to love Elyse together.

Leo shooed the kids out of Elyse’s apartment and then disappeared himself.

“I guess they figured it out,” Elyse said. “The dishwasher is running.”

She was in the open kitchen, regarding the machine. Her face was still streaked with tears, her hair the sort of mess that helped him understand why she sometimes behaved as if she were at war with it. Her hands were propped on her hips. Her butt shaped her faded jeans so well they were indecent. Arcadius couldn’t bring himself to disapprove. This was the butt of the woman who loved him.

Remembering what it looked like naked caused his cock to swell.

“Elyse,” he said huskily.

She looked at him and blushed.

Cade cleared his throat. “Okay,” he said. “You two go to the bedroom and have at it. I’ll be out here if you need me.”

“Cade,” Elyse said, concern in her voice and eyes.

Cade shook his head. “I have to trust you alone together. I have to trust you’ll love me even if you love him.”

“I do.” Her face glowed with it.

“I know,” he said, “and, in time, Arcadius will too. You need chances to forge a separate bond with him. That’s how we’ll make this work: not just the three of us but also two and two.”

She walked to Cade like he was the center of her universe, a sun that shone for her alone. When their gazes held, their expressions seemed beautiful to Arcadius. The pang their love stirred was less. And maybe the pang wasn’t totally for him. Maybe he understood this was a challenge for Cade as well.

Elyse put her hands on his chest. Cade covered them gently. “Are you going to marry me someday?” she asked shyly.

He smiled. “Whenever you want in whichever dimension. For now, though, I’ll just stand by your front window, watching the street for threats.”

He deliberately made this sound pitiful. Elyse looked startled, but Arcadius rolled his eyes. “He’s . . . pulling your leg. He’ll be fine out here.”

“Really?” Elyse asked. “Because he could—”

Arcadius steered her away by both shoulders. “Not this time.”

Her gaze came up to his, and he saw a spark that was just for him.

“Treat her right,” Cade called, halfway to his watching post.

“As if I wouldn’t,” Arcadius said mildly. He took Elyse’s hand, weaving their fingers together. “Come with me, beautiful. Let’s make a memory.”

~

Was that going to be his pet name for her? Not
sweetheart
, not
honey
, but
beautiful
?

Elyse didn’t ask. It would have felt like fishing for compliments. She let him draw her down the hall instead. The hand that held hers was the same shape and size as Cade’s but it felt different.

“You have calluses,” she blurted.

They were at her bedroom door. Arcadius paused to face her. “Calluses?”

“On your hands. Cade must have forgotten to project them into your copy.”

Arcadius’s gaze searched hers.

“I don’t mind,” she added. “You must have gotten them from sword practice.”

“Yes,” he said. “Normally djinn wouldn’t, but I . . .
we
train a lot with our men. The magic that allows us to change form treats calluses as assets and not injuries. I imagine Cade will develop them again.” He hesitated before stroking her curls back. “I can’t be exactly like him.”

“I don’t want you to.” She gnawed her lip unsurely.

“What troubles you?” he asked.

“Just that, when I’m with you, I can’t be exactly like I am with him.”

“But you love me.”

“Oh, yes,” she assured him.

He must have liked the way she said it. His normally stern mouth curved. “I’d like to kiss you now, Elyse.”

“Yes, please,” she said and stretched up to reach him.

His arms slid around her as his mouth covered hers, completely confident in this. Their tongues met, and he let out a sound. Wanting more of that, she drove her hands up his back and clung. He gripped her bottom, hitching her up his body and then turning to push her hard into the doorframe. With her secured by his weight, he ground his erection between her legs—as if their genitals could burn through their clothes. He gentled a moment later, but hot excitement had already streaked to her sex. He dropped his lips to her neck and nipped. Elyse gasped with quick pleasure.

“Elyse,” he groaned. “I want you so much.”

She reclaimed his mouth even as she started wrestling her T-shirt up her torso.

This didn’t work, of course. She didn’t have elbowroom. Arcadius’s chuckle was low and male, his fingers squeezing her ass even as he turned to carry her into the bedroom. He laid her on the covers but she sat up. She couldn’t let go of him. She kissed him and kissed him until he pushed firmly enough to break free.

Joy and lust danced together behind his eyes. He caught her wrists and pulled them away from clutching him. Then, with a quickness that stole her breath, he whipped her T-shirt over her head. Her bra followed just as swiftly, leaving her breasts swaying. His gaze dipped to her tightening nipples before returning to her face.

“I’m undressing you,” he warned, “Every stitch, until you’re stark naked.”

“I’ll help,” she offered eagerly. Wet and aching with readiness, she moved her hands to the metal button at the waist of her jeans.

“No,” he said, stopping her with the single commanding word. Seeing he had her compliance, he pulled his belt free of his trousers. In contrast to the night before, he had no trouble removing it. Her attention snagged on the leather accessory.

Fires gleamed hotter in his eyes.

“You want me to restrain you,” he concluded. She shivered involuntarily. Naturally, he noticed that as well. “Cross your wrists in front of you.”

She had no impulse to disobey. She crossed them, and he wrapped the leather strap around. She couldn’t help squirming on the bed as her pussy grew wetter. Cade liked to control her too. The difference lay in Arcadius’s edge, his slightly less careful willfulness. She remembered whipping him and how much he’d enjoyed that. Maybe Arcadius had more of both extremes in him.

When her wrists were securely trussed, he buckled the belt ends together.

“Stay where you are,” he said. “You’re not lying down for this.”

He knelt to pull off her sneakers and socks. He rubbed the soles of her feet, his fingertips digging in to find interesting nerve bundles. Her breath sucked in as he found a spot that caused her clit to twitch uncontrollably.

“Like that?” he said, his smile saturnine.

“You djinn know sneaky things,” she panted.

He bent forward to nip her thigh just above the knee, making her muscles jump. With his gaze on hers, he slid both hands slowly up her legs, from her ankles on upward.

She felt like his palms were staking ownership of her.

“I like these blue jeans,” he growled. “More than you can imagine.”

When his caresses reached her hips, he scooted her to the mattress edge. Her thighs widened automatically around his torso. Her breathing quickened. Their positions were suggestive.

She waited for his next instruction.

“Put your hands behind my head,” he said.

She dropped the loop his belt made behind his neck, her forearms resting on his broad shoulders. He was kneeling. She had to look down to meet his eyes. Despite being above him, he felt very much in charge of her.

Possibly he wasn’t in charge of himself. His heart pounded all through his body, his heat beating out in waves.

“You smell good,” he said.

He lowered his face and rubbed it across her crotch.

“God,” she said, her neck and back arching. Her fingers clenched in his hair, her hands forced to stay together.

He mouthed her then, widening his jaw to bite down lightly on her pubis. If he’d smelled her before, he certainly did then. She creamed like crazy at the pressure of his teeth.

He drew back from her, breathing heavier than before. Finally, he was ready to undo the fastenings of her jeans. He freed them quickly, tugging the pants down her legs the moment she lifted her hips enough. He ducked from beneath her hands and rose to his feet.

Then he made short work of removing his own garments.

Oh, his naked body was drool worthy—his skin, his muscles, the cloud of hair that made his chest look so male before it dove to his pubic thatch. His substantial shape was exactly what she liked. His cock stood hard and flushed from his groin, pulsing with excitement.

Too impatient to ask permission, she reached for it with her bound hands.

He let her catch it, groaning out little pleasured noises as she dropped kisses along his shaft. Over his veins she wandered, up to the swollen tip.

“Don’t,” he rasped when she sucked the hot head into her mouth.

She didn’t obey. He was too delicious, too satiny and aroused. She flicked her tongue back and forth and pulled firmly with her cheeks. He couldn’t resist pushing once. As he did, his cock pulsed strongly inside her oral clasp.

Maybe it felt too nice. He dragged her back from him with both hands. His chest went in and out, his diaphragm hollowing. Happy to tease him, Elyse licked her lower lip.

“You taste good,” she said.

He considered her gravely. “I love you, Elyse.”

She bit her grin before her humor could show too much. He was so wonderfully serious. “I love you back.”

He nodded, so apparently this answer was acceptable.

“Do you like that chair?” He tilted his head toward the one nearest to the bed. It was a big armchair, well-stuffed and broken in, with a pattern of small blue flowers on its upholstery.

“I like it fine. You aren’t planning on breaking it, are you?”

He cracked the slightest smile. “I thought I’d sit in it, and then perhaps you could sit on me.”

“Oh.” Her pussy clenched with anticipation. “Yes, I believe I would enjoy that.”

He strode to it before she could move, lowering his body onto the cushion. His knees sprawled to take up more space, his hands curled around the ends of the arms as if he owned everything in sight. Her hormones reacted in spite of her amusement. No wonder he’d had no qualms about filling in for their lost sultan. He was a ruler in his own right.

“Come to me,” he said sternly.

She came, step by step, with her wrapped wrists in front of her. She began to incline her head, thinking he’d enjoy the docile pose.

“No,” he said, tipping her jaw back up with a gentle hand. “I don’t want you to play that much at submissiveness.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “I like your strength. I like looking into your eyes and knowing you won’t break.” He paused and drew breath. “I expect Cade finds it attractive too.”

Emotion roughened his voice for the admission.

“I hope he does.” Elyse broke into a laugh. “I like knowing you guys won’t break either. Sometimes a girl likes a good hard ride.”

His beautiful eyes kindled. “Allow me to help you . . . get into the saddle.”

He steadied her by the hips. She swung her first knee into the chair and then the other. His big hands rubbed her from butt to waist. She put her bound hands behind his neck again. Arcadius studied her up and down.

“Very pretty,” he murmured. “Especially here, where you’ve gone soft and wet for me.”

His thumbs stroked into her folds, parting and sensitizing them.

“Lower yourself,” he said. “I’ll guide you where you need to be.”

He took her hips again to do it, his attention on the place their bodies were about to meet. She felt his crown, and delight snapped through her.

His finger pads dug into on her skin.

“Come down,” he said, nearly whispering. “Feel me going into you.”

She felt him, inch by inch, pulsing, stretching, filling her until his cock seemed to reach her womb. Needing to express the incredible tension inside of her, she gripped the back of the chair and groaned.

“Yes,” he said, enraptured by her writhing. “Ride me like that.”

He held her hips so tight she could only rock. The lap dance was deliciously slow and intimate. His gaze traveled down her, to the spot where the thickness at his base rolled in and out of her. He’d shifted his hips a bit forward, giving her legs room within the chair. Suddenly, he leaned back to see their joining better. He couldn’t hide his reaction to the improved view. His teeth caught his lower lip and his cheeks darkened. The ache in her pussy went nuclear.

“You like watching us,” she said.

He looked up, his pupils as big as dimes. “I like watching you. You move like a harem girl. Will you keep doing that?”

“You mean without your hands guiding me?”

“Yes.”

“I will,” she promised. “It feels really good to me.”